Long Way Down
by Floopygirl
Summary: Dad used to make cocoa for us when we were little, if he was home. He wouldn't let us have hot chocolate in the house, saying it was too sweet and would rot our teeth. SJ. Spoilers: up to Threads


Disclaimer: Not mine

A/N: Written for (and beta'd by) the fabulous Ryuu1. She probably doesn't need me pimping her but her fic is fabulous so go, read it!

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"Fancy a mug of cocoa?"

"Sure."

Actually, he didn't really - in his opinion Sam was snuggled far too nicely into his side to be going anywhere - but, for the few weeks they'd been seeing each other, he'd yet to find a good way of saying no to her. Funny how eight years of practice got blown out the window now that she had stopped calling him 'Sir'.

Sam smiled sleepily as she got up from the sofa and padded away to the kitchen. Jack listened to the various clanging noises coming from the kitchen and tried to ignore how cold the air felt on his skin now that she was no longer lying curled into him. Still, that was the point of a hot drink after all, to warm you up - even if he hadn't needed warming up in the first place.

A little while later than seemed entirely reasonable, Sam walked back into the sitting room carrying a steaming mug in each hand. Jack reluctantly scooted upwards into something vaguely resembling a sitting position and accepted his drink, relaxing slightly as Sam settled against him. She made a small noise that he liked to think of as her happy sigh. "I love cocoa."

Jack looked down at his mug. "Isn't this missing something? Where are the marshmallows and chocolate sprinkles, balanced on a bed of cream?"

Sam shifted slightly until she could look up at him. "Try it."

Jack resisted the urge to blow on his drink and took a cautious sip. Actually... "It's good," he said, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. "Not too sweet at all."

Sam smiled slightly and leaned back into him, taking a sip herself. "It's all about the cocoa solids - none of that horrible fake stuff you get in those so called 'specialty coffee shops'.

Jack slipped his free arm across her shoulders and remained tactfully silent. He'd already faced her wrath (okay, she'd pouted) one time when he brought home 72 cocoa solids chocolate instead of 85: apparently they Made a Difference. Actually, after drinking this cocoa he was inclined to think she might be right.

"Dad used to make cocoa for us when we were little, if he was home," Sam continued, a little more quietly. "He'd heat the milk on the stove and then we'd drink it on the porch. He wouldn't let us have hot chocolate in the house - said it was too sweet and would rot our teeth."

Jack could picture that, dimly. He tightened his arm around her.

"I miss him," she whispered, and Jack leaned forward to put his mug on the table. "He was supposed to live longer than me, and then live on in Selmak's memories for hundreds of years. Now they're both gone, along with all of Selmak's other hosts. It wasn't supposed to be that way."

Jack turned her face up to him and wiped away the tears that glistened on her cheeks. "Hey," he said softly, "It's okay. I'm here."

Sam stared down at her mug. "Normally when a Tok'ra dies the host takes another symbiote so that none of the Tok'ra's knowledge is lost, but that doesn't work when they keep dying together in battle. Jolinar, Martouf, Lantash... they shouldn't be forgotten, but they will be."

Jack didn't know what to say. He tried to avoid thinking about the snake that had lived in her head whenever it was possible, but apparently this time it wasn't.

"Do - do you still dream about her?"

"Sometimes. I have more of her memories now." Sam paused. "After the za'tarc testing I started to remember a lot more. I didn't want to sleep because I kept seeing Martouf dying - and not just Martouf, but Lantash's other hosts as well." She shuddered slightly.

Jesus. He remembered that she'd seemed to spend even more time in her lab than usual afterwards, but the last thing he'd wanted to do was talk to her about it. Still, he couldn't believe they'd waited almost five years to have this conversation. "I'm sorry."

She buried her head in his shoulder. "It's not your fault - it never was."

"Doesn't matter. Besides, I was a jerk."

"Not really," she mumbled.

"Yeah, I was." He felt her smile into his neck. "The Tok'ra won't forget, you know, not the important stuff, and after we kicked the Goa'uld's collective asses - more or less - they should be safer now."

"I know. It's just all the other things... "

He loved her, he wanted to be there for her, but he'd never be the sensitive type of guy that girls dreamed of. "Sam, you are _not _taking another symbiote."

Her eyes widened as she turned towards him, all startled confusion. "What?"

"Oh, thank God." For a moment he'd thought...

"I didn't mean - " She paused, breathing in deeply. "Even after everything, even after seeing how happy Dad and Selmak were together, I couldn't do that. I like being alone in my head and knowing that I'm me and no one else."

Jack kissed her forehead. "I like knowing that you're you too."

Her eyes narrowed in a way that he was becoming all too familiar with, and then she relaxed. "Besides, this - I wouldn't want anyone sharing this with us."

He kissed her again, trying to remember when his arms had circled her entirely, hands resting on her hip. "Except for Daniel and Teal'c."

"And Cameron."

Jack knew without having to look that Sam was grinning. He closed his eyes, thinking of the overenthusiastic new addition to his former team. Lovely guy, he had a lot of respect for him, but - "Just. Don't."

"Jack?"

That tone of voice... a little sad again. "Yup?"

"Your cocoa's getting cold."

Jack stroked her hip one last time (for now) before picking up his mug from the coffee table. It was rich and bitter, and it was good.


End file.
